


A Serious Case of Workplace Douchenozzlery

by AvaCelt



Series: Paradise Hearts [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Gen, Los Ingobernables de Japon - Freeform, M/M, Schmoop, True Love, and bushi's ever-forgiving nature, featuring naito's insecure hoe ass, sneaky love shenanigans, the rest of the Japanese commentary team make their triumphant debut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 15:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt/pseuds/AvaCelt
Summary: Milano knew the Ingobernables didn't open their mouths, and he himself had been very careful to keep things to himself for Seiya's sake, but somehow, some way, the entirety of the Japanese commentary team found out Milano was dating Sanada Seiya. Cue workplace violations, Naito's self-loathing ass, and the Devil himself (it's Naito again). [Or that one time the Japanese commentary team found out Milano was sneaking out with Sanada behind their back and decided to stage a revolution because of it.]





	A Serious Case of Workplace Douchenozzlery

**Author's Note:**

> This fic idea popped in my head after hearing the absolute FOOLISHNESS taking place on the commentary mike on the night of the 11th (G1 8/11/2017) during Sanada and Bushi's match against the Guerrillas of Destiny. They marked out over a Paradise Lock, Milano helplessly went along, and the baes made eye contact. I was THRIVING, please go watch that show with the Japanese commentary, it was absurdly precious.

Their first date was at an Italian restaurant a few towns outside of Bunkyou. A few days later, Takahashi Hiromu covered for them while they took a a three-hour trip to a shopping district a few train stops from the hotel the wrestlers and New Japan personnel were staying at. In Niigata, they took a walk in a nature park before Seiya took on Yano Toru. They never stayed on an excursion past four hours, and they never spent the night together. It wasn't as if they didn't want to. The kisses they shared were intimate, honest, and quite frankly, too short for a pair of grown men who hadn't had an earnest night with a partner in a long time. Unfortunately, their love just _had_ to blossom during G1 season, so they were forced to keep quiet. Eyes were everywhere, sponsorship deals were taking place mere hours before doors opened for the early crowd, and people were constantly talking. Milano had been openly gay for over a decade now, but even during his heyday, he'd never dared to play up his rebelliousness against the Suits when they were on a money run. G1 was coin season. G1 made sure everyone had a paycheck and bonuses to send to their lovers, families, and friends back home. You didn't, not even on pain of death, act out of line during the biggest moneymaker of the season. He'd even heard about Young Lions catching Okada crying quietly on the phone with his girlfriend one morning. That same evening, those same Young Lions watched the Ace of New Japan show up to a sponsor event in his best suit and most vibrant smile. The man never stopped bowing, never stopped smiling, never stopped posing for corporate photograph, even when Gedo, God, and the entirety of the New Japan roster knew that his neck and shoulders were shot to hell. Milano also knew Goto regretted not being able to visit Shibata Katsuyori in the hospital and be near his wife and children, and he knew Yoshi-Hashi spent more time talking to his wife at night than sleeping like the rest of the roster. It was a rough season, and Milano knew very well how much they all missed home.

So that meant Milano and Seiya kept their mouths shut and their hands in their pockets. Seiya had no one but the Ingobernables and Milano, and Milano had no one but Seiya and his friends on the commentary team. They got lucky. They had the ones they loved the most closest to them. Their dates were on random days picked out by random members of Los Ingobernables de Japon, since Milano refused to bring their relationship to light during such a stressful season. The activities were just as random as the food they managed to eat together. Once they grabbed takoyaki for lunch after visiting a school festival open to the public. That had been their seventh date in the span of twenty days. With so much left up to chance, they were sure they wouldn't get caught.

And yet, someone had found out. Correction, his _friends_ had found out. If it was a Suit, Milano would have negotiated terms for everything to be kept quiet until he and Seiya were comfortable enough with Seiya's progress in the ranks to officially come out to the roster. If it was Gedo, Milano would have thrown him the finger, but still promised not to compromise Seiya's work. If it was any of the wrestlers, Milano would have found a pair of brass knuckles and gone to work if they dared to open their mouth.

But it was none of the danger, and all of the tomfoolery that took place instead. On the morning of the A Block finals, Nogami grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him the hardest glare known to man. Dearest Nogami, the closest friend he had today, looked like he was half ready to cry and half ready to toss Milano's noodly body into traffic. Behind him were the rest of their friend circle, and consequently, the rest of the members of the regular commentary team that traveled with the wrestlers from island to island and beyond. Yoshino, Yamazaki, and Shibata flanked Nogami with equally hurt expressions.

Milano gulped , focusing his eyes on Nogami and not the rest of the team who were throwing him wounded looks. “Nogami-san?”

Nogami tightened his hold. “How could you, Milano-san?”

For a second, Milano assumed word had gone around that he used hair dye to hide his gray hairs. “Look... it's not what you think.” It was exactly as they were thinking if they were thinking about Milano's poor gray hairs.

“But if you cared about us like you _claim_ you do, then you would've told us! We could've helped!” Nogami took a second to compose himself before starting on him again. “If you'd _told_ us, we would have gotten you reservations to actual restaurants! Who takes their boyfriend to a school festival run by a bunch of high schoolers!?” Nogami all but shrieked.

Milano had already passed out once due to low blood pressure (and abject fear) not too long ago, and now he was about to shoot for number two on the day of the A Block finals His legs felt like jelly, and then his knees buckled.

“Oi! Milano!”

Nogami held onto his shoulders while Yamazaki and Shibata got a hold of his arms. They helped him into a chair Yoshino had ready on the dial, and then he sat and looked at the interrogation squad that masqueraded as a commentary team and fooled citizens left and right. Milano rubbed his forehead and took deep breaths. Sweat pooled on his forehead and his silently cursed his luck. “How did you find out?”

“You can't afford Gucci, Milano-san,” Yoshino said pitifully. “None of us can.”

“At first, we thought you might have found a nice foreign lover. That was quite the expensive watch, but not so flashy that it would attract enough attention to garner a statement.” Yamazaki was the brain of the team, too smart, too old, too bald, and too _experienced_ in this shit for his own good. “I thought, 'maybe Milano found a nice Frenchman.' There were a few of them in the crowd these past few shows.”

“But I cross-referenced your checkouts from our last four hotels,” Yoshino piped up. “No one saw you leaving with anyone, so it had to be someone who was smart enough to not only stay away from the hotels, but stay close enough to come get you and not get mad at you for being so secretive. Only a lover would do that, not someone taking you out on first few dates.”

Shibata took a drag of his cigarette, a cigarette Milano had no idea where he pulled from because everyone, including Gedo, knew not to humor his tobacco habit since Shibata's wife would have skewered him (and them) alive if she caught him with one. “So then we swept the roster's checkouts on whim, and found out Seiya Sanada was mysteriously disappearing around the same time you were.”

“The Paradise Lock stopped being a flirtation ritual months ago and you didn't even tell us,” Nogami sniffed. “All this time, we were rooting for him! For you!”

Milano rubbed his eyes. “You can stop rooting now,” he sighed, his voice cracking. “Please.”

“How long?” Yamazaki asked.

“Since B Block started.” He knew better than to withhold they'd probably wrestle out of him sooner or later.

“ _Right_ when G1 started?” Yoshino balked. “That's balls, Milano-san, major balls.”

“Way too many balls,” Shibata mused. “Not as many balls as I have smoking in broad daylight, but still, a good amount of balls.”

“Can we stop talking about balls?” Milano asked.

“It's better than toilet humor,” Yamazaki told him. “So... about a month then?”

Milano nodded. “Steady, but slow. It's been nice.”

“He does seem to like you very much,” Yoshino noted. “At first, we thought Los Ingobernables were just being petty, but then we realized the Devil-”

“Naito,” Shibata added.

“-was merely attempting to aid a fellow friend,” Yoshino continued. “Though I must say, spitting at one's friend's potential lover is unbecoming of a man currently in charge of such a powerful faction.”

“Naito's _face_ is unbecoming,” Shibata grumbled. “Have you seen his hairline? It's in the middle of his head.”

“One of these days, we'll get our vengeance,” Nogami promised. “But the Devil isn't the focus of our discussion today! Today, we celebrate Milano-san's new relationship!”

“We have a four-hour schedule to hold and a three-hour show to commentate,” Milano deadpanned. “We need to go over our notes, discuss who's going to take the first leg, figure out wha-”

“All taken care of,” Yoshino chuckled. Milano's eyes widened. Yoshino was scary, even if he was clean-cut and primp.

“Today, we ride,” Nogami declared. “Come, men! Drinks on Los Ingobernables for setting Milano-san up with a nice man!”

Milano raised an eyebrow while Yamazaki and Shibata hauled him up by his shoulders and began leading him towards a rental car conveniently parked outside. “Wait, how did you get Los Ingobernables to agree to pay?”

“We didn't,” Shibata coughed, stubbing out his cigarette beneath his shoe. “Nogami swiped cash from the Devil's baf when he wasn't in his room. We'll be done and back in the arena before he finds out the money's disappeared.”

Milano didn't even question it, and simply got in the car and rode to the restaurant Nogami had excitedly pointed out on his smartphone. Flustered as he was, Milano still felt a heavy burden lift from his heart and quickly eased into a conversation with his best friends.

Home was, after all, where his friends and lover were. They passed by the hotel the rest of the roster was staying in, and Milano couldn't help but smile.

* * *

“MILANO-SAN! MILANO-SAN, WHAT IS THIS, MILANO-SAN!?!?”

Milano stared at his so-called friends who sported wide grins and giddy eyes. They were purposefully egging him on and he couldn't do a damn thing to prevent it. The night's matches had barely started, but Los Ingobernables were already in the ring, and Seiya, as per usual, looked like a god amongst men and made his heart tighten.

Unfortunately, his friends did not miss this.

“WHAT IS IT!?!?” One of the fools he called 'friend' shrieked into the commentary mike.

“It's a Paradise Lock,” he drawled, keeping his voice even. Indeed, it was. Tama Tonga looked like an idiot, and Seiya looked beautiful. The younger man caught his eye and Milano smiled. “Splendid.” He could _feel_ the fools he called 'friends' almost bounce with excitement.

The match ended against Seiya, but it was OK. He and his stablemate did well, and tomorrow night, Milano was sure Tama Tonga would bow. Sanada Seiya was a man to be feared, especially when angered, and the Guerillas of Destiny had done a good job riling him up when they insulted Bushi. Milano watched _his_ man walk out of the ring with the same composed visage he held everywhere he went. He felt proud, amazed, but most of all, at peace.

After the show and Naito's victory against Tanahashi, Milano didn't expect to hear a sound from Seiya, considering how important this win was to Los Ingobernables. Yet, the moment he walked into his hotel room, he realized Seiya was already there. He wore a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and was pushed back against the pillows with his phone in his hands. The commentary team always stayed behind an extra hour to finish up closing remarks on the show and attend their usual meeting with the Suits. Then Milano had to humor his friends and take a few shots at the local bar before helping everyone to their own rooms. It was an ungodly hour with barely any human beings outside. Seiya should have been in his own room and asleep hours ago.

And yet, Milano couldn't complain.

It took him a record ten minutes to change, wash up, and climb into the bed where Seiya was still scrolling through his phone. He sank into the covers and settled his head on Seiya's chest. “Miss me?”

Seiya closed his phone and wrapped one arm around Milano's shoulder. He nuzzled the top of Milano's head and took a moment before he spoke. “I just wanted to see you again.”

“I thought you and your team would want to be alone for a little bit,” he admitted. “Naito did well. We almost didn't believe it, but he did it.”

Seiya threaded his fingers through Milano's hair and kissed his scalp. “We brought him to his room and were about to help him get into a bath, but he asked us to leave. Most of us did, except Bushi. He looked like he was about to cry. Hiromu, when he lost, was devastated but he wasn't broken. He had us, he found Daryl, but this was Hiromu's first real loss, so he was able to manage it. But this happened to Naito before. He almost had his dream in the palm of his hands, but he lost it, and we weren't there for him the first time. Los Ingobernables de Japon didn't exist. Evil and I, we see it. He trusts us, but he won't share his pain.”

“Not all men have it in them to share their pain.” Milano remembered a time when most of his model friends simply disappeared off the face of the planet after Milano announced his retirement. He'd spiraled into a depression that cost him a good year or two of his life span, but not so bad that it led to alcoholism or drug abuse. He got lucky. “Some cower, and other internalize,” he finished.

“Bushi's known him the longest. Naito tried to shove him off, but Bushi's... strong. In body, yes, but his soul is something else. Naito can't ignore him, not even when he's broody.”

Milano remembered the young man before the mask, before the excursion to Mexico. Tetsuya Bushi was a handsome man with a bright future, but somewhere along the way, he'd gotten lost in the shuffle. Yet, he'd found himself as an Ungovernable in 2017, and now he held their leader's heart in the palm of his hand. Milano shuddered at the way things turned out. He remembered Takahashi Yujiro's bond with Naito, the bond that severed and left Naito in shambles at the end of it. Milano had seen a lot in his life, and he wasn't afraid to admit that some of it was the stuff of nightmares.

“... He trusts you,” Milano assured him. “He just needs to heal. After the shame of being voted out of his own main event, he needs to regain faith in himself before he can start extending his heart to the rest of you. He's a broken man, you know. Not all of us get lucky in love and live wholesome, happy lives.”

Seiya let out a sigh before wrapping his free arm around Milano. He shifted over and kissed him deeply, pressing his broad chest against Milano's sinewy skin, trapping Milano's body and soul between the sheets and Seiya's warmth. Milano sank into the touch, grateful, _happy_ that he was loved and cherished by someone who was honest and knew exactly what he wanted. He cupped Seiya's face in his hands and felt the warm, prickly skin of his face, traced the faint outlines of wrinkles near his eyes, and keened into his touch. Their lips parted and Seiya nuzzled his neck and breathed in his scent. Milano embraced him a hard as he could. He embraced a man who could have been his husband if Milano wasn't afraid, if their laws moved any faster, if they weren't wrestlers who put their work over everything else. And yet, Seiya gave him hope in a way no one else had, not since he'd lost his career for good.

With tragedy came change, and Milano changed for the better. He changed so much that someone actually found him worthy of loving. It was, in the end, the best kind of love, the kind of love that took him for what he was and didn't judge a single atom in his body.

“Can we?” Seiya whispered into his ear before his lips went back to hovering above Milano's.

Could they? Milano broke into a tender smile, feeling the tiny hairs on Seiya's chin. “Yes.”

There was hope in love, in friendship, in companionship with the people you loved most. Milano missed that feeling for the longest time, and he was glad he was beginning to appreciate it again.

* * *

Nogami noticed his limp before anyone else. “Milano-san!” He practically screeched.

“I'm not commentating tonight,” he grumbled, sunglasses over his face, spine contorted to hell because he thought he was still twenty-five and Milan's Best Bottom.

“Gosh, I wish that were me,” Shibata said morosely.

Milano threw them both the finger and went back to picking at his salad. He really should have been careful, but he'd gotten caught up in the moment, and now he had a limp that would last a week, and the boys would never let him live it down.

“We'll bring up your cause tonight, Milano,” Shibata promised him. “We swear it.”

And they did. The second they dropped his name in the middle of Seiya's match with Tama Tonga, Milano practically imploded.

And yet, he couldn't stop laughing.

* * *

**FIN**

 


End file.
